


The Drowning Man

by Black_Teapot



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anakin is Qui-Gon's Padawan, Angst, Blood and Torture, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, Post-Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, Whump, Written for the QuiObi Writing Discord
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:41:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21852367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Teapot/pseuds/Black_Teapot
Summary: The cell was cold and empty. The alarm rang in the outlawed complex.-The man was still, lying on the floor.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 91





	The Drowning Man

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic was written for the prompt "Drowning" of the Whump Challenge, on the QuiObi Writing Discord.
> 
> I'm happy to share another angsty fic' with you! Don't hesitate to leave a kudo or a small comment if you liked it ;)  
> Enjoy!

Obi-Wan could hear frantic steps and blaster shots. People were screaming orders or shouting out of pain. His cell was empty for once; only he remained in the sparely lighted and sanitized room.

He wanted to get up, to try an escape. The disorder in the outlawed complex was a chance to get out of this hellhole.

But as he began to shift, he realised he was unable to move. His right tight tensed to the point of suffering, contracting uselessly, incapable to bend. His arms twitched, out of control, sometimes knocking his broken fingers on the ground, sending waves of sickening pain.

The young knight was lying on the floor, unrestrained. And he didn't have the force to crawl toward the unlocked door.

The electric currents his captor had used apparently really messed with his nerves.

Two of his kidnappers had been in his cell before the alarm rang out. The first one had tried very convincingly to punch his face in, stopping when he began to hurt himself. Some kind of unskilled thug, them. But the second… He had waited his turn, tucked in the left corner of the room. He had seemed a bit amused by his colleague. That was the first sign proving his ability to this sickening task: his patience.

Then he had taken control of the situation. The man had installed some kind of hand-made machine in silence, never feeling the obligation to talk. He hadn't need to –everyone knew who had the power in this cell.

Obi-Wan had tried to take a rise out of him with some well-placed words, to make him sloppy. But his captor hadn't replied, continuing his work. The last cable plugged in, he had finally turned toward him, his blue eyes serene.

"I'm going to ask you some questions regarding your current mission. Answer and I'll stop. Stay silent and I'll hurt you. Badly."

The Jedi Knight had clenched his teeth, bracing himself for the pain.

What an illusion.

Nothing could have prepared him to this. The intense burning pain, his muscles contracting. His eyes rolling upwards.  
His lungs had tensed and he had found himself gasping like a fish out of water.

Then the electric current had ceased. The man's face had been above his own, his lips moving slowly.

"I'm under no obligation to keep you alive. So speak, and I'll stop. I'll be merciful."

Obi-Wan hadn't replied and his tormentor had reacted by switching on his machine.

Things got pretty hazy after that.

The auburn hair man could remember his head hitting the ground –more than once. The overwhelming taste of blood in his mouth; he had bitten his tongue. He had shaken and shaken and shaken.

When the first cry of alarm had rung out they had left him on the ground, bleeding and almost incoherent.

Thinking about all of this, Obi-Wan felt dizzy. His jaw and right cheek seemed to lie in a pool of liquid. The fighting sounds in the corridor seemed fainted, distant. Maybe he could rest for a little while…

* * *

Something made him regain consciousness. Obi-Wan coughed, panic rising as he realised he had severe difficulties to breath. He tried to take several inspirations, eyes mostly closed, but liquid seemed to invade his mouth and nose, living him light-headed.

The iron tang took some time to be noticed.

Blood. He was lying in his blood. He remembered the injuries on his face –and don't they bleed abundantly? He had also bitten his tongue, hard.

Apparently, it was enough to bath his head in a sizable pool of blood.

The young knight coughed again, the vital fluid entering his lungs as he tried to breathe. Fear was invading him and he found himself incapable to calm down.

He was blocked face on the ground, unable to move, even to roll his head. The fatigue, the lack of oxygen and his damaged nerves and muscles left him completely helpless. And his own blood was invading his respiratory tracks.

Oh, stars. He was going to drown.

At the back of his mind, he could feel two familiar presence progressing into the complex. One rich, cultivated, reassuring: his ancient Master. The other messy, determined and shining with an unmatched inner light: Qui-Gon's new padawan, Anakin.

His relationship with them had been a bit hard after his knighting, untold things festering their rapports. But they had worked hard on this these past few months and he was proud of their reconciliation, of their close bond.

He could only hope they would be here on time.

Obi-Wan didn't want them to come through this door and discover his lifeless body. He didn't want to inflict such pain to his friends.

_Oh, stars. Please, come!_

The young knight felt himself slowly lose consciousness, blood filling his mouth and his nose.

_If only…  
_

* * *

Someone running, rushing thought the door. Calling:

"Obi-Wan?"

Someone rolling a body, a hand trying to take a pulse.

"Obi-Wan?"


End file.
